


Hungry

by Ivartheboneme



Series: Five days of smut [2]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, He is always eating, Hviterk's hungry, Hvitserk x big boobs reader, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Tit-sex, a little bit of biting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 18:09:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10747059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivartheboneme/pseuds/Ivartheboneme
Summary: Day two of Five days of smut, AKA Hvitserk-day.Please note that for all of my works that have sexual content, all relevant characters are at least 18 years old. If they are not yet 18 in canon, I age them up.





	Hungry

Your back crashes against the tree and Hvitserk promptly follows, covering your body with his. His mouth collides with yours and he gives you no time to ease in to this feeling, immediately demanding entrance for his tongue which you eagerly grant. He tastes of the ale that you served earlier at dinner and you try to remember how many cups he had because right now he seems more beast than man; eyes black with lust and long fingers clawing at your back. His hands find the strings at the back of your dress and begin to pull at them desperately.

“Take it off.” He snarls. _Someone's in a hurry_ , you think to yourself while helping him slide it off your shoulders. It falls around your waist and Hvitserk temporarily abandons the undressing to instead focus on your breasts. One arm wraps around your waist, fingers digging into your hip, while his free hand massages your breasts one at a time. You gasp loudly and press further into his grip while a wetness begins to gather between your thighs. He growls happily into your skin and murmurs to himself.

“Gods they're big.” Next he lets his head descend to tend to them with his mouth, feasting on them like he hadn't eaten dinner just an hour ago while his hands plant themselves firmly on your shoulders. Your hands go to the vest he has over his shirt, tugging at it.

“Please, my prince. I want to see you.” You whine into the air above his head. He retracts his hands from your shoulders for a short while, allowing you to remove the clothes on his upper body. The sun has already warmed his skin and you revel in the feeling of it; soft to touch even though it is stretched over taut muscles. He seems to think that now it is your turn to take of an item of clothing, because he suddenly yanks the dress down from your hips to make it land around your feet. He presses a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth before quickly descending down your body. He pauses for a moment to suck at the skin beneath your navel and you moan softly. Without warning he bites down on your thigh, causing the moan to turn into a surprised shriek. The fair-haired prince glares up at you.

“Open up.” You obey, legs trembling as you slowly move your feet further apart. Hvitserk smiles up at you and grant a soothing kiss to the bitemark before burying his head between your legs. He slowly drags his tongue over your folds, moaning at the taste before setting a quicker pace. A familiar knot begins to form deep in your stomach but his tongue is still only working at the outside and you bury a hand in his hair, tugging at it to urge him on. _I want more_. He reacts quicker than you expect, promptly bringing a hand between your legs to spread you so that he can slip his tongue in with ease. The sensation of him filling you is divine and your mouth forms a small _oh_ as he begins to ravish you. The knot in your stomach grows tighter and tighter until you cry out his name, coming undone on his clever tongue.

 

Your are still in the process of recovering when he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, his eyes heavy with lust and lower face still covered in your juices.

“My turn.” He growls, his free hand swiftly undoing the laces at the front of his trousers. His pants land in a pool around his ankles and he hurries to step out of them before picking you up and turning you around so that you no longer have your back against the tree. He sets you down again, simultaneously pushing you onto the ground. He lowers himself on top of you and once again turns his attention to your full chest but this time he is more focused on the cleft, laving at it almost furiously. As pleasant as this is your cunt is aching for more and you begin to roll your hips against him

“Please, my prince.” You beg, imploring him to put himself between your legs. He lifts his head to glare at you.

“That's not where I'm going to fuck you.” You're on the verge of asking what he's going to do then, if he wants to spill down your throat but before you can form the words his mouth is back between your breasts. The realization hits you like lightning from a clear sky and you let out another small _oh_. Hvitserk gives a few more wet strokes and then deems that you are ready for him. He moves further up your body and then swiftly slides his length between your breasts. He grabs your left wrist and forces your hands against your tit. He grunts something incoherent, his ability to speak seemingly affected by the overwhelming arousal, but you understand what he wants. Smiling sweetly at your prince you squeeze your breasts together, enveloping his erection in warm softness. He groans and gives a few slow testing thrusts. It feels strange but not in an unpleasant way and you think that you might very well enjoy this. He begins to thrust more eagerly now and with each stroke his tip pokes out from between the tops of your breasts. On impulse you crane your neck and wait for the next stroke, darting your tongue out to lick at his tip when it appears. Hvitserk shudders on top of you and you don't have to ask if it is because he likes it. He barks out a command.

“Again.” You happily oblige and he even slows down a bit to allow you more time to work your tongue over his tip. You are impressed by how long he is able to keep this up, much longer than you had thought. _Maybe he will have the energy for one more_ _time_. Eventually he reaches his end, his chest heaving as thick jets of seed stain your face and you close your eyes. He claws at the ground with his free hand as he rides out his orgasm while you lie there, feeling his liquids slowly run down your cheek. Hvitserk's dirt covered hand lands on your face, making you open your eyes to look at him. He drags his fingers back and forth over your face, spreading his cum and mixing it with the dirt; he doesn't look at you but can see that his eyes are glossed over. Your eyelids fall down again while he continues smearing your face. He stops for a moment, probably to admire his creation. Suddenly you feel his fingers begin to descend again and your eyes fly open. He smirks at you while dragging a finger over your folds, the movement painstakingly slow. Hvitserk's voice comes out as a low purr.

“Who's my dirty girl?”


End file.
